Dirty Laundry
by Elephantastiic
Summary: Her dirty laundry is nothing he can keep clean.
1. Forbidden

**Disclaimer: Don't own them but that doesn't make me love them any less! :)**

**Forbidden**

As the workday comes to an end and everybody has already left, she remains. All sounds are blocked out other than the rapid scribbling from her pen and the beating of her heart. Her hair hangs over her shoulder, curtaining the right side of her face. The single desk light illuminates her thoughts on paper while her free hand embeds itself in her hair. Her brown eyes move with every single letter that appears on the delicate paper.

Tranquility. Bliss.

"Hey Liv, what are you doing?"

Exposed. Broken.

The voice behind her makes her flinch violently, causing her to slam the cover of the journal in a heartbeat. His eyebrows furrow.

It's been about three days since Sonya's death and Olivia seems to be the one having the hardest time recovering from it. She trips over her words when she speaks, barely eats, and comes to work exhausted. Not to mention, she's so damn fidgety.

She's never been like this since Sealview.

Why?

"Nothing," she says in a quick breath. She looks down at the black leather book.

"Nothing," she repeats in a slow sigh. She tucks her hair behind her ear and focuses her gaze up at him, "Did you need something?"

"We were going to O'Donovan's for a few drinks. Wanna come?"

"I, um, sure, yeah. Let me just run to the bathroom."

Out of all of them, she's the one who needs to drink the most.

She begins to stand but it's cut short by a huge, long, yawn. After rubbing her eyes, and blinking a few times, she begins to organize the papers underneath that little black book.

His eyes are fixated on it. He's seen it before. What was she writing that was so intimate?

She's told him everything before.

"Want me to just take you home? Maybe you should take those few days off Cragen offered you."

"No, I'm fine."

He's heard that one before.

She smoothes out her shirt and walks to the restroom. His eyes travel from her to the closed journal on her desk. He shouldn't read it. She'd kill him if he did.

So, he won't.

Maybe just a peek. It won't hurt.

He hears the door of the bathroom close and instantly he takes her seat. His fingers quickly flip through the ink filled pages. Her handwriting is neat; a very casual form of cursive. He knows this is wrong. He doesn't even know why he's doing this. If Olivia caught him, she'd probably shove the damn thing down his throat.

She's capable of doing that.

He can't stop himself. He hates secrets.

Here it is - today's date:

_February 12, 2011_

_Three days ago, Fin and I found Sonya lying on the bathroom floor when we went looking for her at her AA meeting. She was bleeding out. I never expected to react like I did. I've seen plenty of scenarios similar to this one but there was something about Sonya's death that overwhelmed me. I don't know how it happened. Well, I know how but I don't know what I did wrong. If only I was a few minutes earlier, I could've stopped this. I could've saved her. _

_I could've just…I don't know. _

The paper has rounded stains near the words; she was crying when she wrote this. He makes sure the coast is clear and continues reading.

_Could it be because I saw so much of my mother in her? Maybe it was like letting my mother die for a second time. It's complicated, I guess. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't even work without the image of Sonya lying in a puddle of her own blood appearing in my head. When I got home the other night, I didn't want to do anything. I just wanted to sit on my couch for as long as it took until I could finally realize what happened. I almost did that; then I pictured Elliot looking at me, thinking how pathetic I was. _

_Oh, God. Elliot. Where do I begin? _

_I'm so confused. I don't even know how I feel. Is it wrong that I did __it__ again with him in mind? _

Elliot's eyebrows rise a little. Suddenly he hears the door open in the distance and the sound of Olivia's boots clicking against the floor. He wants to read the rest but the footsteps get closer. He closes the book and leans casually against her desk. He glances out the corner of his eye to see if she noticed him at her desk. She's probably too tired to process anything. She runs her fingers through her hair a little before taking the diary into her hands and putting it in her bag. His eyes follow the book's journey from the desk to the safety of her grey purse.

Now, he's hungry to read the rest. Is this the first entry she's written about him? What was that one even about? What do the others say?

He pushes the thoughts to the back of his mind, "Ready?" He asks.

She nods slowly and turns off her light.

Elliot and Olivia step out into the light flurry of snow and walk to car. His mind races with the possibilities of what could be in that journal. Maybe if he kept a diary, most of the entries would be about her. If they were and she found it, she'd probably be just as curious to see the rest.

As soon as they both sit in the car, Elliot sits for a few seconds. He turns to Olivia; she's already looking at him, waiting for him to start the car.

His hand reaches for the key and then stops – he turns back to her.

"I know it's hard, but just know that she died solving a case that she never gave up on for twenty-five years. I know I'll always remember her for her dedication."

"You never liked her. You'll remember her for a lot more than just that." Olivia says in a broken whisper and a dry laugh.

If only he could bring up the second part he read, the part about him, without being so obvious. Instead, he reaches over and comfortingly rubs the back of her neck.

God, he'd kiss her. He'd kiss her and tell her everything's okay.

She looks ahead for a few moments and then turns to look out the window. Elliot starts the car. The heat begins to flow out of the vents and the car begins the purr softly. The blanket-like heat and the smooth vibrations from the car cause Olivia to close her eyes.

Her bag sits vulnerably in her lap. The diary peeks out.

He knows it's forbidden.

But some of the best things are.


	2. Professional

**Author's Note: Thanks for the positive feedback guys! :)**

**Professional**

_It happened the night before we found Sonya. This time, it took place at work. Right around this hour - when everybody has gone home and it's just the two of us. It turned into one of those fast and kinky moments. One that's been provoked by the heat of the moment. I'm pinned underneath him on my desk, his tongue blazes a trail all along my body. I'm on the peak of pure and utter ecstasy while his fingers are deep inside of my wet, hot-_

_God, I shouldn't even be thinking like this. _

_It's definitely not the first time I have._

Not the first time? He turns the page to find the rest of the entry blank. His attention directs to the changing light. He hopes the next traffic light he drives up to is a red one. A red one that takes forever to change. Olivia stirs a little in her seat; a small, tired, moan escapes her.

Luckily, for him, the next light turns red right and he slows to a stop.

He prepares to slip the diary back into her bag when he realizes she's not waking up. He opens it back up and quickly, he flips through the previous entries. Based on the dates, she doesn't write in this everyday. The last entry is back in November - the day Calvin was taken away from her. The first entry is a few years back.

He squints his eyes to adjust to the text in the dark. They beg him to turn on the light above so they don't have to strain themselves. He ignores the struggle. His fingers rush through the pages, yearning to find something, anything, that'll feed his hunger. His search is interrupted by the car honking behind him. In an instant, the book drops into the shadow that covers his lap.

Olivia's eyes open at the sudden noise. In an attempt to stretch, she arches her back and extends her arms. Elliot's hands grip tighter on the steering wheel at the view of Olivia's back arched, her chest poking out, and her shirt teasing him by exposing a section of her slender figure. Even though he's watching out of his peripheral vision, he can't focus on anything else.

God damn.

"Elliot. Go," she demands.

Another horn blasts at him and a few cars drive around him. He directs his attention to the bright green light. His foot pushes down on the pedal and he continues his way to the bar.

He holds the journal tightly in his blazer pocket. He's nervous, frightened even. He never had a chance to return the black treasure. She doesn't seem to notice.

Yet.

He sits next to Olivia at a small table with Munch and Fin. She's a little livelier after having a drink. He tries to involve himself in the conversation but his mind is fixated on all the other unread entries that are waiting for him. The leather burns through his pocket and the heat of desire runs through his whole body.

His heart is racing.

All the undeciphered secrets about his partner taunt him.

Images of her latest fantasy fill his head while Olivia's laugh is the music in the background of reality.

She's on her back – under him. Her shirt is wide open and she's looking at him with eyes full of sexual desire. His hand occupies her revealed breast while the other remains concealed behind the promiscuous lace.

It's so real. Her moans are as clear as a bell.

She's whispering his name.

"_El…"_

A little louder now.

"_Elliot…"_

God, she's so tantalizing.

"Elliot!"

Suddenly, he feels a hand on top of his. He blinks roughly and looks over at Olivia. She watches him with concern.

"Are you okay?" She asks.

"We lost you for a moment," Fin says. Elliot's eyes remain on Olivia's and Olivia's only.

"Yeah. Fine. I'll be right back," he says in one breath. He stands and rushes to the bathroom.

He closes and locks the door behind him. He jerks out the diary and opens it. His eyes rapidly scan each turning page, looking for key words that can tame this lustful creature growing inside him.

_November 11, 2006_

_I think I've been committing some type of sin. _

_I'm undoubtedly going to hell for this. _

_I don't mean to – he's (kind of) married and my partner! I don't know what comes over me. _

_How long has this been going on? I didn't notice it until tonight._

_It started when Elliot and I went to "Jakes", the twenty -four hour diner and we had a great time. He's upset about Kathy and the divorce but he sure as hell didn't show it tonight. We were laughing and talking. God, he's so gorgeous. When we sat down, he took off his sweater and the shirt he wore just clung to his muscles and shaped each and every detail. They flexed whenever he moved. It's so hard not to stare – not just at his arms but every part of him. _

_I guess what I'm trying to say is…he turns me on. A lot. _

_For years he has, but tonight I noticed how much it excites me, which is why I'm definitely going to hell._

_The whole car ride, I kept staring at his crotch; wondering what his length looks like. What it looks like when he's aroused. _

_Long. Throbbing. Begging for attention._

_Fuck._

_When I got home, I tried thinking of something else. I even took a shower, hoping it would go away. It didn't. _

_I didn't want to but I did anyway._

_I was about to get dressed but I was so turned on. I caved. I had to take care of the problem – so I did._

_As I was lying on my bed, I imaged Elliot inside of me. Thrusting in and out while whispering naughty remarks in my ear. His breath is hot and his words are husky._

"_God, you're so fucking beautiful." _

"_Cum for me, Olivia."_

"_Does that feel good?"_

_And I would respond in a soft whisper,_

"_Yes."_

_Next thing I realize, I'm vigorously pumping my vibrator in and out, moaning his name (rather loudly) and reaching, probably, the best orgasm I've had in a while. I'm hot, sweaty, and my hair is sticking to my (rather flushed) face. I was disappointed to find that it was all a fantasy and shocked my fantasy was all about Elliot._

_Damn, I thought writing about what happened would help me get over it._

_Obviously not. _

_I feel dirty but at the same time, it excites me all over again. Knowing I can't really have Elliot only makes me want him more. _

"Jesus Christ, Olivia," Elliot exhales.

Each and every word he reads makes him harder. By the time he closes the diary, the bulge in his pants pleads for release, for relief. He grips onto the edges of the sink and squeezes every time he feels the aching throb of his erection. He looks at himself in the mirror. His cheeks are florid, his heart is pounding, and his breathing is slightly labored.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he whispers again.

He looks down at his new addiction. The black leather diary written by the seductress he works with.

He slides the book back into his pocket and splashes water on his face. He relies on a few deep breaths to calm himself. It works only a little bit.

He returns to the table, hoping nobody would notice anything different. He makes eye contact with Olivia before anybody else. She's worried and curious. Elliot quickly takes his seat before her eyes travel south.

"Maybe we should call it a night. It's been a long day and everyone seems tired," Olivia suggests, mostly to Elliot.

His eyes remain on the bottom of his glass. The remains of the glass seem so unappetizing to him.

Not Olivia, though. She couldn't be more mouthwatering.

Elliot walks out of the bar only to find Olivia back at the entrance digging through her bag.

"Everything okay, Liv?" Elliot asks.

"Yeah, I must've left my book at the station. Have you seen it?"

He swallows strenuously, "What book?"

"That black one. It had a silver buckle on the front," she says and shifts some more things around.

"Maybe you dropped it in the car."

"Help me look?" She asks.

All four doors are open and Olivia and Elliot are on opposite sides of the backseat. Olivia's leaning over while looking under the passenger seat – her bra and cleavage in full exposition for his viewing pleasure.

He tenses and his heart speeds.

This is wrong. He can't. He shouldn't.

He grabs the diary and tosses it on the passenger seat.

Goodbye, sweet treasure.

He glances back at Olivia – too occupied to notice anything.

She looks over at him, "What?"

Oh, nothing, Olivia. Your breasts are just so tempting. No big deal.

He shakes his head as if it really wasn't a big deal, "Nothing," he says.

They both straighten. "Are you sure you're okay?" Olivia asks, "You've been acting weird all night."

"Yeah, just tired," he lies.

He's anything but tired.

Confused? Yes. Seduced? Definitely. Horny? Abso-fucking-lutely.

Anything but tired.


	3. Fantasy

**Fantasy**

The house is quiet and dark when he opens the door. The dim lights from outside guide his path inside. He throws his keys on the end table and then his coat comes off. His tie loosens and the first few buttons of his shirt become undone. He climbs up the stairs with his coat hanging over his arm.

When he reaches his door, it's ajar and a light from inside flickers.

Candles.

A faint sound of slow jazz accompanies the romantic light.

Elliot, a little confused and too exhausted for any sexual activity with his wife, opens the door a little further. He expects to find his wife waiting for him. Instead, he finds a much better surprise.

Suddenly, he's not so exhausted anymore.

She's wearing his favorite boots – the ones that lace up along the side. They show off her long, tanned, legs. A lacy, black, thong taunts him and her matching bra is ready to come off. She pours some red wine into two glasses and looks over at him.

"I didn't expect you to come back for a while longer," she says without looking at him. Her hair covers the side of her face and he watches her lips move while she talks.

A wave of the blood-red liquid fills the glass powerfully.

How can she be like this? Does she see herself right now?

She sets down the bottle next to a flickering candle and walks over to him.

"Olivia, what's going on? What are you doing?"

"You're going to find out," Olivia whispers and sits him down on the edge of the bed. She undoes the rest of his tie and wraps it around her neck. She opens his shirt slowly. Her eyes are fixed on his as she unbuttons his shirt, one after the other.

His hands press against her bare ass as she pushes him on his back. Her lips connect with his neck and her whispers enter his ear.

"Don't be stupid…" She mutters.

He closes his eyes.

"Travis, don't be stupid."

He opens one eye, frowning, and raises an eyebrow. Shouts fill the background along with cars honking and the sounds of the city. His skin begins to feel cold and her touch begins to fade.

"Don't be…"

* * *

"Don't be an idiot, Travis! Don't be stupid!"

Elliot blinks back to reality. What's going on?

Oh right, they're in the alleyway. He has a gun pointed at a suspect with his partner. Olivia's doing her amazing negotiation thing to save the helpless victim at gunpoint and everything is going haywire. Especially in his pants. Elliot doesn't dare look down at the most inappropriate response to the situation. If anything, it's rude to everybody.

Is his coat covering it?

What is going on with him? Why is he losing focus?

"Shit, Elliot! Look out!"

Olivia's scream breaks his thoughts and he feels himself being forced to the ground. He feels something graze his arm as he hits the pavement. Olivia's panicked breathing and the echo from the two guns that were fired are the only sounds present.

He blinks rapidly to focus on Olivia's wide, alarmed, eyes. She's on top of him. He's confused. He looks at the man two uniform officers are handcuffing.

"Are you all right?" She asks. Her fingers lightly touch his exposed arm and a strong sting rushes through his body. He looks at her bloody fingertips and a new cut on his arm. His jacket sleeve and shirtsleeve are ripped and the sharp end of a broken bottle, already glazed with his blood, threatens him with another attack.

"Yeah, it's just a little scratch."

He makes a mental note to himself that it's been ninety seconds with her on top of him.

"Be grateful that the bottle only cut you and didn't stab you," she ties her scarf around his arm and ties it.

After one hundred and thirty seconds, she climbs off of him.

Approximately, two minutes of him hoping she did not feel his raging erection.

* * *

"Shit." He inhales sharply through his teeth and grips onto the edge of the desk, "God, Olivia."

"The more you move, the worse it'll get." Olivia replies.

A cool breeze crosses his bare chest and his open cut. His jaw clenches a little tighter.

He focuses on Olivia's careful hands while she applies alcohol to his slash. Her hands are just as warm as he imagined back at the alleyway.

"I thought it was just a scratch," she teases.

She's vigilant not to hurt him too much. Her fingertips trace the shape of his biceps. Her heart begins to pick up speed and she's careful not to let her hand shake.

"What distracted you back there?" Olivia asks. She wipes up excess blood and meets his gaze.

"What are you talking about? I wasn't distracted."

"Elliot, the guy almost shot you. It would've hit you directly in the chest if I hadn't pushed you out of the way. You're never this vague. What's going on?"

Just the usual sexual repression he always feels when he's with Olivia. It's just getting stronger this time.

"Nothing." He glances at her bandaging his arm, "Are you done?" He asks irritably.

She shoots him a glare and backs away when she's done.

Elliot glances at the bandage, slips on his new shirt, and walks into the interrogation room. It's silent although Jacob Travis is not afraid to look Elliot dead in the eye.

"Where's your hot friend? The lady officer."

"My _partner_, Detective Benson, is in the other room talking to Callie. Let's talk about that. What happened?"

"Caught the bitch tryin' to steal some of my girlfriend's jewelry. I bought her that shit and I wasn't going to let her get away with it. Doesn't mean I wasn't gonna kill her."

"How did you make it outside?"

"Chased her. Obviously."

"Why was she at your house anyway?"

He leans in towards Elliot, "Doing everything you wish you could do to your partner," he says in a low voice.

Elliot stares at him.

"I saw the way you looked at her back there. I bet you had that 'If I don't fuck her now, I'm going to explode' kind of feeling, right? The one that goes way beyond being horny."

Right.

"I don't think so. You're in pretty deep right now. You could've gotten out here with a lot less if you hadn't shot me," Elliot replies.

"I thought you'd thank me for giving Detective Benson a reason to play nurse."

His jaw tenses again, "Yeah? Well, you thought wrong. You're lucky you're not going down for murder."

"Yeah, I'd rather be going down on your partner. Wouldn't you?" He winks and then laughs.

God, he'd give anything. Now's not the time for an agreement, though.

Elliot leans forward, so close to his face that he can feel the cockiness emitting from Jacob.

"You don't know how much I want to kick your ass right now. Keep it up; see what happens."

His hand curls into a tight fist.

The door opens, "Elliot!"

He hesitates but he glances over his shoulder at Cragen. Elliot looks back at Jacob, straightens, and walks out.

It only takes him a few steps out of the room to see a pair of very bemused eyes.

It's clear she's heard everything.


	4. Conflict

**Chapter Four: Conflict **

_February 14, 2011,_

_Am I so set on that __one__ person that I don't think about anything, or anybody, else? The one person that can fulfill every sexual desire my body aches for? _

_Well, lets see…I don't want a man who puts himself in danger to impress me. I don't want a narcissist. I don't want a smart one that shows his intelligence by hurdling facts every other sentence at me. The drug users, the kind who think they are porn stars. I don't want a man who is so nervous to touch me and asks me "Is this okay?" or "Does that feel good?" I want someone who knows how to make me moan without words. Without shaking hands. Ones who can easily make eye contact the whole time we make love. _

_I want someone whose eyes sparkle when the light hits them the right way. Someone who has that stunning smile and makes it impossible to look away. Who can sport a suit, jeans, and sweatpants and still look unbelievingly sexy. He has to have that look that'll get me wet on the spot only for him to take me in the bedroom and just captivate me with every single part of his body. _

_He's looking right at me._

_He has to know how to seduce me. His touch has to be electrifying. His whispers need to be so erotic that they can send me on an earth shattering orgasm by just words alone._

_My face is probably flushed. Is that why he looks so concerned?_

_I need him to know my most secret places. _

_He's smiling at me. _

_I need him to take me, fuck me, make me his. _

_Jesus, Elliot, why do you do this to me?_

Head down.

Pen in hand.

She closes her eyes and breathes in. Holds it. Then breathes out. The growing arousal between her legs politely begs for attention. Her hand rests near the groove of her crossed legs.

"You okay, Liv?" Elliot asks.

She quickly looks up at him, "Yeah. I'm fine."

"I hope what Jacob said earlier isn't bothering you. I mean, you've definitely heard it all before."

So has he but it didn't stop his mind from going in all the wrong places.

"Yeah, no, I'm fine," she smiles unconvincingly.

He's read her diary. He doesn't believe her but he smiles anyway.

They work in silence for a few more minutes. Only one of them is working. Olivia can't focus. Her fingers keep wandering between her legs. The heat grows and the idea of fingering herself right in front of a clueless Elliot is stimulating. The very thought of him making a simple trip around his desk and finding her at her naughtiest is unlike any fantasy she has ever dreamed about or written down.

She stands. It's sudden to Elliot and in one blink he sees her walking towards the locker room.

She storms in the room and searches her things for something, anything that could help her in this time of desperation. Maybe something that could substitute for one of her toys. Or maybe a towel so she could take a quick shower – they're empty around this time, right?

Or maybe a new pair of panties for starters.

All is silent until she hears someone clear his throat behind her.

She jolts and turns around to see Elliot. He's standing in the doorway, arms crossed, smirk on his face, and a look in his eyes.

"What?" She asks defensively.

"I didn't say anything." He walks towards her, unbuttoning his shirt.

She's seen this many times before. She tries not to stare.

Olivia closes her locker, "Well, when you look at me like that, it usually means something's up," she mutters.

"Does it now?" He growls into her neck. She feels his lip tug into a mischievous smile.

She doesn't turn around but she knows he's right behind her. His breath is hot on the nape of her neck. Her eyes flutter to a close while his hand snakes around the band of her pants.

He separates the button from the gap and his fingers slide over the black satin.

"Elliot," she whispers.

She can't do this. This is wrong.

But it feels right.

"Elliot, I can't…"

Her eyes open to find nobody there. Elliot's masculine scent had vanished and his breath is can no longer be felt. His hand has been replaced by her very own and suddenly the touch doesn't feel as good.

She's alone.

She's alone and fantasizing. Again.

Her heart beats faster. What if somebody walked in on her? What if the wrong person caught her?

As opposed to the right person?

Maybe a shower doesn't sound so bad right now.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Fin asks.

"What?" Elliot questions back nonchalantly. His eyes scan the text of the little black book.

"Going through Liv's stuff. It's risky."

A risk he loves to take.

Elliot ignores him. Fin gives him a look that Elliot also ignores and walks to his own desk.

He closes the diary and stares at it. This can't become a habit.

Too late.

Elliot places it back on his partner's desk and reclines in his own chair with a deep sigh.

Olivia returns to her desk and notices Elliot looking at her in a way she's not familiar with.

"Do we have anything new?" She asks, hoping to break the thought that this look might be one of lust.

"Not yet," Elliot replies, turning his gaze somewhere else even though his mind remains on Olivia.

A smooth ring fills the silence and Olivia pulls her phone out of her coat pocket.

"Hello?" Slowly, her lips tug into a smile.

"No, no, now's not a bad time."

Elliot watches her speak.

"Yeah, I'm free then."

His eyebrow rises, he's beginning to dislike where this conversation is going.

"Great! See you then."

She hangs up and meets Elliot's eyes. He doesn't have to speak to express his curiosity.

"Remember that guy that bought me a drink the other day? At Mulligan's?"

"No," Elliot lies. He remembers it perfectly. The guy was an ass. To Elliot, at least. He treated Olivia like a princess.

"Well, he wants to see me again. Tonight after work."

He tries to show his support but, in all honesty, he could punch something.

The least he could do is try to keep Olivia from going.

Sounds like a plan.


	5. Mistake

**Chapter Five: Mistake**

* * *

_February 15, 2011,_

_It is currently one thirty in the afternoon and I'm just waking up. My head reminds me of my latest events. It's like someone is hitting my head with a fucking hammer and won't stop. _

_My time with Derek will always be one that I will never forget. _

_Last night, he took me to his house. We had a few drinks__,__more like a big dose of liquid encouragement,__ and he suggested that we take a walk. As we were kissing, I felt his hand on my thigh. The touch delighted me instantly. I ignored my conscience telling me to go somewhere private before someone, like a police officer, saw us. I pushed the warning away when his hand was in my unbuttoned jeans and teasing me from outside my panties. _

_I wanted him. I wanted him then and there._

_That was the alcohol talking and I listened. God, did I ever jump at a command from the liquor! His house wasn't far and that was good enough for me._

_Although I didn't drink a lot, there were things I don't remember and the sound of my phone ringing constantly played in the background. Again, I listened to the liquor and ignored it._

_He's a wonderful man and the sex was amazing but I know I'm never going to see him again._

* * *

He's tried it all.

Reasoning, excuses, predictions, everything without sounding selfish.

She's still decided to go.

Her response to every one of his roadblocks?

"Call me if something comes up." And left.

Elliot hopes something comes up.

* * *

"Have you been waiting long?" Olivia asks and rests her hand on his shoulder.

Derek turns around. His eyes inspect every detail on her body. Every curve, every mark, every feature on this woman's physique. She's wearing a solid, black, v-neck shirt and dark jeans that tailor her figure.

"No, no, I just got here," he replies when he's done ogling. She smiles gently and takes the seat across from him. He orders two drinks.

They converse over glasses of Jack and Coke. Glass after glass after glass. The time seems to fly by as they talk. Their conversation begins with topics that make sense, jobs, childhood, interests. Then, it stops. A silence takes over them. She looks at him with eyes full of desire and yearning.

The intoxicant has conquered.

He knows what she wants but, just as mellow, isn't going to jump at the chance.

He tosses a few bills on the counter, and suggests that they leave. She happily acquiesces.

* * *

The sidewalk is quiet except for the cars passing them and into the night.

She's laughing

He's laughing.

Nothing is funny.

There air is frigid but all is warm. His touch feels like the middle of summer to her even when he brushes her shoulder. They find themselves in a romantically lit park. Strings of lights hang from the trees overhead and they compliment the nearby streetlamps that illuminate the dark path.

Too bad they're too busy laughing to focus on the amorous mood.

Olivia leans against the pole of a streetlight and stares into his intoxicated, but alluring, eyes. Her laugh and smile balance each other when it comes to looking sexy. She pulls him into a tight kiss. She's impatient. She doesn't want to hang around and let their tongues intensify the mood. He eagerly blazes his hand along her body and into her jeans. She's overexcited and she wants it.

His lips hush her moans while he plays with her in the cold night. She looks around to make sure they're still alone. Everything is blurred and feels so good. She wouldn't be able to tell the difference between no one around and a crowd of people watching them.

In a swift motion, she lowers herself to her knees.

"Wait," he exhales when she begins to play with his belt. She looks up at him with irate eyes at the fact that she was stopped.

He smiles down at her and strokes her cold hair, "My house is ten minutes away."

* * *

The sun hurts when she tries to wake. The mattress is comfortable and silk sheets feel nice against her bare skin. It's cool but warm at the same time. Her pulsating head hurts with every thump. She turns onto her stomach and lets most of the pillow dim her vision.

"Shit," she breathes into the pillow. Her hands clutch into a tight fist, taking a handful of the sheets with it.

Finally, her eyes are able to open fully. The room is beautiful and overlooks the busy downtown area. Her play date for the night is nowhere to be found. Her panties hang from the bedpost adjacent to where he would be.

How the hell did those get there?

The heat is low and the chill overpowers the warmth. She shivers a little and brings the sheets up to her chest. The top layer of sheets is already hanging on the edge of the bed. She takes the liberty to drag the rest off and robes herself with it. As she travels across the room, she stumbles across her jeans. She reaches in the back pocket and pulls out her phone.

Ten missed calls from Elliot and three from Cragen.

She exhales exasperatingly.

His back is turned to her when she opens the door. He's only in a pair of long pajama pants while he pours two cups of orange juice. She leans against the doorframe and watches him.

"Good morning," she says softly.

He turns and smiles. Something about his smile seems a little awkward.

Did something go wrong last night?

"Morning, Olivia."

Her eyebrows furrow; he wasn't like this when they met. Even before the drinks.

She tucks her hair worriedly behind her ear.

"Last night was amazing."

Does she thank him? Would he feel like this was a favor if she did?

"Yeah. You're really beautiful, Olivia. You really are and I'm sure it's a pleasure to see your beauty like that every night," he hands her the cup.

"What do you mean?" She asks and happily takes it.

She sips with desperation; anything to make this hangover go away.

He looks at her with a bit of hesitation. He doesn't look angry, just a little detached.

"Last night, you kept moaning the name 'Elliot' and you screamed it at the end."

Her eyes widen and she chokes on her drink.

Suddenly, she's not so thirsty anymore.


	6. Attraction

**Chapter Six: Attraction**

She didn't say anything to him. She didn't say anything when he took the half empty cup from her to wash it. Nothing was said when the two of them sat on the couch, trying to put everything back on balance.

She didn't say anything when his wife came home early from a business trip.

So, she sits here. Not even paying attention to the arguing couple. Not watching their marriage slowly tear apart right in front of her.

"In our bed, Derek! _Our _bed! On the sheets we got for our wedding! She's wearing them! How could you fucking do this to me?"

Her mind busily searches for the missing pieces belonging to the puzzle of last night.

Her eyes trail up to Derek's wife crying into his shoulder like her dog just died rather than her coming home to find her cheating husband.

Awkward? Yes.

Not as awkward as it must've been being on top of a woman screaming another man's name.

_If _he was on top, she doesn't remember.

She stands and walks past Derek as if he is only a ghost to her. She goes into the bedroom to collect her things.

Her eyes scope the room and she suddenly feels angry. Angry that he only wanted her for the night. Treating her like she's the only one that matters just for a quick fuck.

She leaves her underwear on the bedpost and takes the rest with her.

She doesn't make eye contact with his wife when she brushes past Olivia to clean up in the bedroom.

She takes one small glance at Derek and leaves.

Olivia walks down the street with her hands stuffed in her black leather jacket. She ignores the cold wind roll through her hair and her thing layer of clothing.

She regrets only putting on her jacket, jeans, and shoes while everything else is stuffed in her bag.

Her apartment building is close and she rejoices a little. Her shower calls her name in the distance.

"Hey!"

She looks over at Elliot getting out of the car.

"Are you just getting in?"

She remains silent. She hasn't said a word to anybody since Derek told her about her slip up last night. Well, that's not true, she gratefully declined the Good Samaritan who offered to help her home when he noticed that she had been crying a little.

"Olivia?" Elliot worriedly asks.

She blinks to reality, "Uh, yeah, sorry. I am. What-What are you doing here?"

"I was just in the neighborhood."

She's heard that one before.

A bitter wind enters the openings of her jacket and against her bare skin underneath. Her shiver is visible.

"Are you sure you're wearing enough to be standing out here like this?" Elliot asks and reaches for her coat zipper.

"No!" Olivia quickly pulls back. Her cheeks begin to heat up a little, "I'm not. Let's go inside."

Elliot blinks and locks his car. He follows her inside without another word.

"So what happened?" Elliot asks as he closes the door.

Oh, nothing, Elliot. Just moaning your name all night. Nothing new. Except this time it was with someone.

"Nothing," Olivia replies.

"Now I know that's not true. It's going on three o' clock and you're just getting home. You can't tell me nothing happened."

She throws her keys on the kitchen counter, "What do you want to know? The details of the sex we had?"

His nose wrinkles a little in disgust. She only arches her brow to prove her point, "Nothing happened."

Liar.

She brushes past him and into her bathroom.

"Are you two serious?" Elliot asks.

What a stupid question, of course they're not. They've only been on one date. She rolls her eyes but when she realizes he's not joking, she begins to wonder why he's asking.

She pokes her head out of the doorway, "Why? What the hell's with you?"

"Just answer the question."

She withdraws back into the bathroom but doesn't shut the door. He takes advantage of finding out what she was hiding underneath that sexy leather jacket.

Her image is in the mirror. Her back is facing him but he gets a clear view of her unzipping the jacket and hanging it on the towel rack facing her.

His blue eyes repeatedly trace the sexy curve in her back and his jaw drops along with her clothes.

Knowing that she just had a conversation with him while only wearing a jacket excites him.

Keep her talking so she won't expect anything, idiot.

"I mean, you seem to attract guys quickly. I'm just wondering."

She shimmies out of her pants and disappears behind the shower curtain.

Show's over.

The warm water feels good. The tiny drops attack her skin and cleanse every part of her. She runs her finger through her wet hair and processes his comment.

Is he jealous?

"Elliot, what are you talking about?"

_No answer._

_She hears the door slowly open. She doesn't say anything; she tries to think nothing of it. _

_Is he coming in?_

_She feels her back press against the cold tile in her shower, as if backing up would help her stay hidden. He opens the shower curtain and steps inside, unclothed and yearning. He doesn't say anything about her body; he doesn't even look at her figure. His eyes remain on hers the whole time. _

_His arm coils around her and is strong against her back. Hungrily, almost greedily, Elliot pulls her toward him. He kisses her, lips slightly parted. An electric flow runs through Olivia's body. _

"Liv?"

She flinches. The flow, as well as the fantasy, is long gone and in no condition of coming back. Elliot, back on the other side of her bathroom wall, knocks on the door again.

"Yeah?" She chokes out.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be out in a sec."

Elliot steps away from the door and wanders around her room. He occasionally glances behind him to make sure Olivia doesn't catch him snooping. He notices her open bag on her bed and that little tease poking out.

Well, his second tease – his first being Olivia.

One more glimpse and he rushes towards the bag. Something about this thing is intoxicating and is making him act like someone that is unlike him.

_January 20, 2011,_

_My friends dragged me to this stupid party last night, which I really didn't want to come to but they felt I needed to have a good time and meet someone I could have a stable relationship with. Elliot was there but we didn't talk much. He was catching up with a bunch of his old buddies he hasn't seen in years. He introduced me to some of them but I didn't want to seem like I was clinging onto him since I lost the others. _

_I was so ready to leave. _

_I went to the closet to get my jacket when I feel a warm body gently press against my backside. My first instinct is to defend myself against the person in the closet with me._

_I didn't want a one-night stand – especially in a closet. Nor did I really appreciate being approached like this but he was just so warm and familiar._

_I met a ton of guys tonight; a lot of them gave off that warm and friendly feeling. _

_His lips caressed my neck and his hands ran along my body. I wanted to see him. I wanted to see the man who turned me on so much. I could smell the scotch on his breath and the masculine cologne on his body. His whiskers tickled my jawline._

_He turned off the light and turned me around._

_I forced my eyes to quickly adjust to the darkness so I can see this mystery man but no avail. _

_Was I enrolled in a game of Seven Minutes in Heaven and not told about it?_

_He pulled me into a passionate kiss. I didn't know who he was but I pretty much melted in his arms. I felt his lips part and his tongue came out to play. He pressed me against the wall and I felt my back crash into some coats. The intensity was unbelievable. _

"_Say something," I pleaded. I needed something to help me identify him. _

_He didn't say a word, not even a grunt. I felt him run his hand down my back and slide something into my back pocket. _

_He took my bottom lip in between his teeth and tugged. Then he moved to my exposed neck. There, he left kisses and a small hickey. _

_I expected things to go further. I was waiting for our clothes to begin coming off but we were interrupted by a knock on the door. I felt him jump and quickly escape. I made eye contact with the bemused person who only wanted her coat._

_He left a pearl bracelet in my pocket in my pocket and a buzz on my lips._

_I was too turned on to be embarrassed and I lost my mystery lover in the crowd of people. _

_This morning, Elliot asked me about the hickey. I couldn't tell him. I didn't even know._

_Probably the most erratic and enjoyable night I've ever had._

His lips turn into a smile.

The closet. The hickey. He remembers it all too well.


End file.
